Drops of Sunshine
by smells like citrus
Summary: Snippets of Claire and Quil's life, as Claire grows and Quil waits. R&R!
1. Push ups

Disclaimer: I disclaim!

A/N: Hello! New fic! The plot bunnies are at it, it seems. ^_^; I'm planning to do a series of drabbles on Quil and Claire. So it's pretty much anything goes. This one was fun to write, so I hope you guys have fun reading it.

~*~

**Push-ups**

"I don't ever want to grow up," Claire declares in a tone much too grim and final for an eleven year old. Underneath her, Quil pauses in the middle of a push-up. He can feel a smile tugging at his lips. Oh, he can't _wait_ to hear this one. He resumes his push-ups, careful not to dislodge the girl lying on her back right on top of him.

"'Cause growing up's stupid," Claire fumes, right on cue. "It makes you do stupid things, like wearing make-up and wearing skirts and being mean to your little sister all the time." Quil can almost see the little pout on her face. So it _is_ Sandra, again. He thinks of Claire's older sister, who turned fourteen a few months ago. Still not saying anything, he brings his body close to the floor, then slowly presses up.

"And then you start saying the stupidest things," she rages on. "Like how you can't make mud pies, or—or play basketball this afternoon, 'cause you just did your _nails_," she continues, disgust evident in her voice. Quil hears the hurt, too. Sandra is growing up, and she's leaving Claire behind.

"And you know what's the worst part of it, Quil?"

"No, Claire-bear, what is?"

"She said—she said it's going to happen to me too, soon!"

"Who did, sweetheart?" Quil stills for a moment as he feels her turn around so that now she's lying on her stomach. Her huff ruffles the hair draped on the back of his neck. When she settles, he starts pressing up again.

"Sandra. And that's not all she said," she mumbles to his back.

"Well, what else did Sandra say, Claire-bear?" He feels her bury her face between his shoulder blades and shake her head.

"It's too horrible, Quil!"

"All the more reason to say it then, yeah?"

"Well…she said that when it does happen to me, I—I can't hang with you anymore," she whispers sadly. She wraps her arms around Quil's neck and squeezes tightly.

Quil doesn't break his pace, but he almost does. So many things are starting to change in Claire's world, and he wants nothing more than to protect her from all the pain and heartaches her new world will bring. "Claire, honey, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening?" He feels her nod to his back. "I want you to know that you can take _all_ the time you want growing up, you hear me? And it doesn't matter if you start doing that tomorrow, or in the next hundred years, 'cause I'll always—always—be there right by your side. Got that?"

"Yeah…got it. You're the best, Quil." She gives his neck another squeeze. He sighs in relief, glad to hear the sunshine back in her voice.

That's right, he thinks to himself. Claire can take all the time in the world to grow up, and no matter how long, no matter how difficult, no matter how painful it will be, Quil will wait for her.

~*~

A/N: Leave a review, you guys. Constructive criticisms are appreciated. Belated Merry Christmas! ^_^

Luff,

smells like citrus


	2. Yellow

Disclaimer: I disclaim!

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! ^_^ Again, please keep in mind this will be a series of drabbles (the slice-of-life sort), not a full-blown fanfic. I hope you guys have as much fun reading this one as I did writing it. ^_^

~*~

**Yellow**

Quil caught her riding her bike in his front yard one stormy afternoon, drenched and shivering and grinning in the pouring rain. At his outraged "_Claire!_" the girl in question froze. The grin left her face fast, her eyes widened, and she stared at a furious Quil like a deer caught in headlights. She new what came next, and it came down hard.

Quil kept a continuous stream of tirade as he dragged her by her arm inside his house. He kept at it as he shoved her into a steaming bath and left the bathroom, so Claire could hear him loud and clear through the door. It went on as he insisted she wore another one of his huge t-shirts on top of the two she already had on, and didn't stop as he sat her in front of the fire, nestled cozily between his legs and blow-dried her hair from behind.

"But Quil," Claire had whined, "It's been raining since I got here. What was I supposed to do, stay inside for a _week_?"

"For the love of God, Claire, yes!" Quil cried in exasperation. He drew a deep breath to calm himself.

"It's just so dark and gloomy, and everything's grey. It wouldn't be so bad if I liked grey, but I don't. I like bright and sun and _yellow_. I figured if it's gonna rain all the time, I might as well have fun in it, right?"

"_Wrong, _you little fool. You also should've figured—"

Claire never found out what she also should've figured because at that moment, she let out a great and terrible sneeze. The wind howled as Claire stared at Quil in tense silence and Quil stared back at her in shock.

"Quil," she started to say, "It's okay, it's just a sneeze—"

"_Just_ a sneeze, is it?" He repeated in a deceptively calm voice, before dropping pretenses. "You. Bed. _Now_!" He barked out each word.

Claire barely had time to groan before she was whisked away in a flurry of blankets and pillows and chicken soup and fussing Quil and cold syrup that made her drowsy. Three days later, Claire was sick and miserable in bed with a full-blown fever, with an even more miserable Quil at her side.

~*~

On the fourth day, Claire woke up on her own bed in her own house. She vaguely remembered being driven home and carried up the flight of stairs to her room the previous night. As she came around, she could smell the rain in the air, the scent of wet grass and a faint whiff of…lacquer?

Slowly, she opened her eyes. Then she gasped. Her room was ablaze, the walls on fire with the gentlest, palest yellow that brought warmth to her very core. She looked above to see the most glorious sun-ceiling lamp smiling down on her. On her bedside table she noticed a note propped on her Quileute Rez mug. Turning it over in her hands, she recognized the familiar messy scrawl of Quil. '_Because you wanted the sun. Get well soon!'_

Her laughter filled the room, the bright room that seemed untouched by the chill and rain and wind outside.

~*~

A/N: And there you have it. Thank you so much for reading! ^_^

Luff,

smells like citrus


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